Starting Over
by Supfan
Summary: She's not sure where to go, or what to do. Nothing feels right anymore. Even Daryl... even having everything she could have ever dreamed doesn't feel like it should. Rick had been right to send her away. She wasn't cut out to care for her own child, let alone be given the responsibility over the lives of others. Caryl all the way! Rated M for all the good reasons ;-) Enjoy


Carol stands over the makeshift grave Daryl had dug. She fights back the images from the would-be rescue attempt. Noah had made it back with them, even the good Doctor...but not Beth. And they had been so close! She kicks the rock beside her grave, resisting the urge to smash it into her own skull. Every young girl to enter her life managed to be ripped away. They all died, the young girls. Beth was on the pursuit of self-discovery. It had taken being ripped away from safety again to drive the last of her innocence. Girlhood was finally gone. Had she not been bitten, she would have been one hell of a survivor.

' She hears near-silent footsteps approaching behind her. On instinct, her hand flies to the holster at her side, but she knows these particular steps. "First light, we gon' move. Rick reckons we'll try and catch up with Glenn and Maggie."

There is a slight hesitation before she nods and faces away from him again, not daring to look him in the eye. It had been her plan in the first place, to enter Slabtown. Carol had promised she would be the one to watch Beth, to bring her to safety. But after seeing how much Beth had grown, how much she had overcome and the strength she now carried...well, she ultimately had overestimated the girl's ability to survive. It had been a simple error. They had been free, far from the eccentrics that had taken her and forced her into this disgusting method of bartering that reminded Carol overwhelmingly over her marriage to Ed. They laughed lightly, the joy of their escape echoing through the trees encompassing the property they'd stopped for a moment to rest at. They were nearing Noah and Daryl's location, supplies and weaponry in hand from their encounter. Beth had leaned against the fence for only a moment. It had happened so quickly, the arm through the rotting wood and then the subsequent teeth into her neck. In her shock, she shot it in the forehead immediately, not bothering to draw her knife and silence the kill. The blast happened just as the girl's flesh separated from her neck. She caught the girl as she fell.

Beth passed with a quiet dignity, keeping herself silent as her body paled and her heartbeat stilled. There was even the small hint of a smile across her face, as if she'd come to accept this was bound to happen. Carol pierced her temple quietly with the knife, tears gliding down her cheeks. She stroked the blonde's hair down as she had Mika's so very recently. Closing her eyes, she'd left the supplies behind without a moment's regret to hoist the blonde over her shoulder and carry her the rest of the way to the meeting point. Noah and Daryl had met her with a grudging silence, neither saying a word to the woman as they helped load her body into the trunk of the car.

Daryl had dug the grave himself, Carol unable to talk about the incidents that had occurred, the failure of the mission resonating within her very being. She didn't talk, barely ate. Rick had agreed they all needed a bit of recuperation and time to gather supplies and a working vehicle. So they prepped. "Whatever happened, you know it wasn't your fault."

Carol scoffs at his nerve. "You have no idea. It was a careless fucking mistake and she just died. Right in front of me. Every little girl that comes into my path, dies...excruciatingly. This is all a mistake. I killed them all. If I'd just..."

She's aware she makes little sense in her words, but that's how her head works right now. There is a dark cloud filling her senses. The fears she'd discovered after Sophia's discovery on Hershel's farm were back with full force. Rick had been right to send her away. She wasn't cut out to care for her own child, let alone be given the responsibility over the lives of others. It had been reinforced during their time at the Grove, when she'd missed Lizzie's psychosis. The failures her recent past were now at the forefront of her mind, her regrets and doubts about being around people, dissecting what is left of her broken heart. Everything hurts too much. Especially the concern of her best friend, the weight of his gaze piercing her steadily hunching form. He lets her trail off, understanding that she's not looking for answers. She's beyond the point of needing an explanation for their twisted lives.

"You gon' be ready to go? Need some more time?" he asks stepping slightly closer. She flinches at the crunch of leaves below his boots.

She answers as honestly as she can at the moment. ""I don't know anymore. I don't know." It's this admission, this truthful declaration of the belief in her ineptitude broke the dam. Her body racked with sobs, her hands covering her grime and blood soaked face. She's utterly shocked when a pair of arms encircle her from behind, clasping before her to prevent her fall. In a gesture so unlike her friend, the pressure is at first too much to bear. She tries to pull away, but he holds tight and the pressure begins to take effect. The feeling of someone strong pulling her into their arms, someone she cares for so deeply, was too great a comfort to pass up. She spins to face him, burying her face in his chest and showing her appreciation be responding in earnest to the hug. She's not sure how long they stay that way or when the tears subside. It's slow and tentative, but with her state of mind, Carol has no sense of time. Neither can be sure who moves their hands first, but Daryl's travel lower, resting to the low skin of her hips below her shirt but just above her cargo pants. Carol's wind from his neck, hands gripping his hair and applying pressure as he presses himself tight against her. The only sounds are the rustle of leaves in the trees and the rapidly increasing breathes of the pair. At this point, rational thought abandons her and primal urges come forth. She drags a hand down his chest, raking her nails across the broad expanse to make sure he understands what she wants. They glance at the nearby graveside simultaneously and he nudges his head in the opposite direction, towards the truck parked a ways off from Abraham's church.

At his suggestion, she tugs him along. They are obviously skipping formality. Both know that after the events of the past few days, any prolonged absence would warrant a search party from the group. What they need to accomplish, they need to accomplish quickly. As soon as the door is closed and they are secure in the back of the truck's cab, their mouths are connected in a quest to quench the thirst that had begun since the search for Sophia had began. Carol shimmies her pants down her legs, satisfied when only one is freed, boot sloppily yanked off. Daryl rubs a hand along her slit, readying her for what he assumes will be a quick act of copulation. Both pry at his belt, Carol rolling her hand across his manhood. He groans, needing no preparation...hard and desperate to get rid of his jeans. She kisses the rough line of his jaw, working down his neck. The assault of sensations was easily becoming too much. He stills her skillful hand and in response, she latches hour mouth onto his neck, adding her teeth for emphasis. "Fuck, Carol."

Removing the belt becomes unnecessary as he rolls down his zipper and is one step closer to his goal. It wouldn't be the most comfortable of fucks, but he'd always liked a little pain with his pleasure and judging by the way she was grinding her teeth into his flesh, she wouldn't mind in the slightest. He drags his nails across her shirt, pulling the buttons lose and dragging his nails down her shoulder. She hisses, a smile growing. After a quick shuffle, Daryl plunges himself within her. There is a flurry of movement, groans and sighs, escalating rapidly as their pair grinds against each other. Nails rake skin, teeth graze spare appendages and the exclamations filling the vehicle. Carol arched her back up, Daryl biting into the soft skin of her chest, a hand settling over her other breast. As wet dreams as he'd had, he'd never imagined a rough quickie in the back of half-stocked truck. He wanted to make this worth it for her, make him worthy of her.

His palm closes and he tweaks her nipple, Carol's voice hitting a range she didn't think possible as she began to ascend a peak she'd never felt before. The look of bliss on her face, the exquisite sounds she is exuding; Daryl drives his hips wildly into her, shoved into a quaking orgasm of his own. Planting his lips firmly over Carol's, he silenced the sounds of their simultaneous releases. He lay atop her, a hand stroking her neck as they fell in steady waves of denouement. He felt the goofy smile on his face, shoving it down as he looked into Carol's eyes for some sign of contentment and seeing only a new phase of grief. He pushed the hair from her face to get a better look, but she pulls away from his touch, even though they are literally still attached. "I-I'm sorry if I did something – "

"No, Daryl."

"You're upset, I shouldn't have – "

"Stop, you were perfect. I'm just- I'm fucked up Daryl. It's all fucked up," she says as way of explanation.

For the first time in his life, Daryl feels like he can do this. He can help her, start over with her and make it right. "You're in a bad place now, but it'll pass. We get a new pass and shit changes. Always does." He leans down to kiss her, meeting her cheek as she faces away. He is overwhelmed with the feelings of rejection. She pulls away from him and he gives her space as she frantically reassembles her clothing. "Carol, wait."

"I'm so sorry Daryl."

"It ain't gotta be like that!" He's trying to put himself back in his pants and make himself look presentable for the group, but she's faster. In seconds, she's out the door and moving onto the church, casting one sad glance behind her.

When he enters the church again, Carol is heavily engaged in conversation with Rick, who gives him a welcoming nod. Daryl busies himself with Lil Asskicker, who hadn't had far enough attention from her favorite Uncle since the fall of the prison. He attempts, quite poorly, to keep his eyes on baby Judith, but every time she moves to a new spot, his eyes trace her. She tended to the faithful few of the group...a smile on her face as she caressed a cheek or tended to a wound. During a conversation she kept attentive and responsible, but when she thought attention was focused elsewhere, the lines of anxiety flexed deeply. Carol finally moved to a corner of her own to make a pallet for bed. Daryl made his own rounds, then headed in her direction in hopes to catch a word before she could run away with another excuse. Before he can speak, Rick addresses the group.

"Our family has been separated too long. This has been a rough week, one of losses that will follow us for as long as we live. Which is why tomorrow morning, we head on the route Abraham left us. Glen and Maggie are family and we don't need to lose any more family." There are fleeting looks at Sasha as well as the four that had just returned. "Everyone get ready for bed. Rest up."

Daryl turns back to Carol, ready to say his bit, but she beats him to it again. "Made enough space for us both. Figured it'd be warmer that way. Gabriel had tons of blankets from the drive." And there was that smile again; the one that he knew that would fall as soon as his back was turned. He decides not to turn his back. Returning the smile, he crawls into the bedding with her and prays that this is progress. She is broken, but he'd been broken too. He just wonders if he can be as strong as she had been. They settle facing each other, ignoring the rising whispers of those around them. If Maggie and Glen were around to see this...Daryl pushed the thought away. They would be soon enough. Taking one of her hands, Daryl looked into Carol's eyes into she drifted to sleep, his own exhaustion taking him soon after.

The moment he woke, he knew it was too cold. The blankets beside him were turned over, the spot in his hand where Carol's had been, replaced with a crumpled piece of paper. He shot up, shaking away the sleep and getting his bearings. It's not quite light out. He pulled a flashlight from his pocket and peered at the paper, his fears confirmed as he reads.

_It's better for everyone this way...I'm sorry that I used you._

_I'm sorry to leave you. They'll understand in time. Tell Maggie how sorry I am._

_Carol_

It takes him only a second to decide what to do. He hops up and moves towards the door, to Rick who is on watch. "Yo, did you see Carol go this way?" he asks quietly, trying not to disturb any of the sleepers in the group.

"No, last I saw you two were rather cozily asleep in the corner," he said, smirk evident.

Daryl ignored the jibe. "I'm gonna track her out back. If you didn't see her, she went out through Gabriel's office," he explained. "She took off. I'm going after her. You guys keep to ya plan. Do what you gotta do. I know the route, we'll catch ya up. If we don't, the pharmacy in Auburn in six days."

Rick looked to him, jaw set. "Are you sure – "

"I need her here, man. She needs us...but I need her," he says squarely, leaving no room for argument. Rick nods once, gripping his arm. "I'll see you within a week."

He stands on the edge of the forest, looking for any track that could point him in the right direction. There is a clear line of footprints trailing directly to the right, Daryl begins to follow watching as they disappear into the brush line, then stop suspiciously. Through his anger and confusion, he has to smirk at Carol's capability. He hadn't taught her as much as she wanted to, but she'd obviously picked up on enough to know what he'd be looking for. Moving back to the end of her footprints, he begins again, looking for her potentially laid tracks versus the real ones. "Come on girl, where'd ya go?" he mumbles, before his light flashes over the slightest of impressions within an almost imperceptibly altered pile of brush. "There ya are."

When he finds a dead walker a hundred yards up, black globs of blood still drying on the nearby tree, he knows he's not too far behind. She is trying to pull, but there is no way in hell he is letting her run. Not when he finally had her where he wanted her.


End file.
